Osa stood atop a makeshift platform before a sea of half a million people.
Osa yelled, "For too long, we've been suppressed for simply speaking Zo-pak. The majority of Zo-pak speakers can't find a job in Cascadia because of our language! We must end corruption and make Zo-pak the official language of Cascadia."
The crowd exploded. Their roar fed him as he spoke for a full hour.
Afterwards, Osa left the stage. He grabbed a cold beer from the tin bucket of ice resting on the grass, savouring the taste as people danced around a bonfire, their voices harmonizing under the glow of a crescent moon.
Noah and Racheal approached Osa and said, "Osa, that was a great speech. What's the plan for us when we reach Zo-Zo city?"
"I'm going to the Allan Palace. I have to take what belongs to me. Things are going to get bloody. Half a million native Zo-pak speakers will join us."
Osa grabbed Racheal by her wrist. "Come on. We're celebrating in the teepee."
Noah's voice hardened. "She doesn't work for free."
Osa pulled a wad of bills from the pocket of his tunic pants. Shoved it into Noah's chest. "Noah, she works for me now. I can't risk… complications."
"She's clean," Noah shot back. "I keep her that way—"
"Noah." Osa's eyes flared. "I'm about to rule. I can feed her, dress her, and fuck her better than any of your clients. She doesn't need the street anymore. She's mine."
Noah studied him. "You're that sure this plan holds?"
"My troops will fight until there's only one name left to declare," Osa said. "Nothing stands in my way."
Turned to Racheal, who looked anything but pleased to see him. "Come with me," he said, voice softening in a way that didn't match the grip on her wrist. "I've missed you."
Racheal nodded—more from the pressure of Osa's hand than of choice.